


oh, it's you

by SNES



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, First Meetings, Flashbacks, Getting Together, M/M, Making Out, Morning After, No Smut, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22490296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SNES/pseuds/SNES
Summary: Jeno can't decide if his mind-voice thinks Na Jaemin is real, fucking with him (correction:fuckedhim, because that literally must've been what they were doing last night, and he should've known if he wasn't completely, utterly wasted) or naked, half-asleep and just really,reallypretty between Jeno's sheets at 6:15 in the morning.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 29
Kudos: 236





	oh, it's you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starwreck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwreck/gifts).



**I.**

In his defense, none of this was supposed to happen.

What ended up being a night supposedly spent cramming to review all four of his textbooks for a test tomorrow (fuck, _today_ ,) ended up with Hyuck, Mark, Renjun, frisky disco dancing, lots of booze and tacky party lights, and now, suddenly, he has a boy in his bed.

What's worse is that Jeno knew who he was— but then he didn't know what happened or how they got here, or specifically why Na Jaemin is naked, or why he is, _too,_ or why Jaemin doesn't really seem to care. Jeno's quite the opposite— if not completely, unnecessarily overboard— considering he's on the verge of a nervous breakdown because he has a test in 3 hours that he's pretty sure he has to wing his way through now, but mostly because the prettiest boy in their campus was drooling over his arms and his lame, galaxy-patterned sheets, and he's losing his head over the fact that— he could swear to the goddamn stars in the sky and on his blanket— something _definitely_ happened last night.

Or not. Hopefully not. The obvious was easily overlooked, because for one, Jeno had no idea what he was like when he was drunk—and he never had the audacity to find out until last night, when Renjun practically peer-pressured him into drowning in bottles and bottles of alcohol with names he can't even read without somehow sounding like a dying seal. _Who knows,_ he reasons, practically praying, _who knows if I'd just randomly met Jaemin when he was seconds away from passing out, let him crash at my place and—he just has the weirdest habit of sleeping buck naked that I somehow weirdly acquired just last night? And God, from up close, he looks so fucking ethereal, so beautiful._

_And, no, God, that's not helping._

Jeno shivers stiff when Jaemin moves against him, hum-like breaths passing through his lips as he tilts his head up. He's still mostly asleep, and Jeno doesn't know if he should be thankful for that. Just when he decides he should be, Jaemin shuffles again, this time to reach tiredly for Jeno, a warm hand landing snug on Jeno's cheek as he whispers against his ear, "You trashed?"

"Yes," he glitches and nods, mortified. "I think."

"Then why are you up so early?" He giggles, attractively low. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

"Uh," was his best answer. Attempting to continue was a straight, bumpless road to his death bed, because now Jaemin was wide awake, staring full at his face. "Hey?" Jeno nervously croaks, managing an awkward smile.

Jaemin grins at him in full recognition, almost leaning up to kiss Jeno before he strategically wills himself to back away. "Do you want breakfast?" He nonchalantly asks, sitting up and yawning comfortably-- like he hadn't just gatecrashed the apartment of a boy he's only met like five hours ago.

"I have a quiz in three hours." Jeno stammers, hoping it didn't give away the fact that he was obviously freaked out, despite knowing it most certainly did. "Yes, I'd love some breakfast."

"Sweet," Jaemin says, still smiling. "I'll go see what I can do." Before he can actually do anything more for the next two seconds, Jeno hastily shuffles up and pats his nonexistent boxers down in fear, points to the bathroom door.

"I'll go take a shit," He croaks weakly, humiliated by his lack of clothes when he realizes Jaemin had been staring at him in obvious amusement. He starts gulping in reiteration. "And a shower."

Jaemin wobbles through his blankets again, says, "Sure, I'll just be a minute," before immediately softening back to sleep. Jeno stays frozen, and he has to fight back the second urge of staring just until Jaemin wakes up again— which is tempting, but he's _stronger_ than this.

As soon as Jeno's out of the room, he backs himself against the bathroom mirror and screams into his hands. He does it long enough to make it seem like it's just his default setting, long enough to contemplate what he's done in his past life to ever be this wracked up over the fact that he was the luckiest person alive right now. He should be kissing the mildew between his bathroom tiles in glee, or obnoxiously announcing his free pass to flex this revelation to his small number of peers, but he's not. He knew, more than anything, that he needed some answers— and even though Jaemin's sheer attractiveness was more than enough to distract him from that, he had to find them anyway.

By the average time it takes for him to freshen up and walk out of his bedroom fully-dressed, which was around 50 minutes, Jaemin was already up and awake, and he'd courteously prepared for Jeno the perfect meal of fried eggs, toast and some godsent strips of honey-cured bacon.

Jeno, while refusing to believe any of this is real, sits by the table with his stack of untouched textbooks in stunted awe. _Fuck, he didn't even know he had all this shit in his fridge._

Jaemin greets him cheerfully with an "I hope you don't mind," and Jeno doesn't even know what he's talking about until it practically slaps him in the face. Jaemin, with no other intention but to positively rile him on, wasn't wearing much-- but Jeno's pretty sure those are _his_ glasses, and _his_ illegally over-sized sweatshirt that he keeps hidden between the murky depths of his hamper, the collar of it barely concealing the dip of Jaemin's collarbones.

"Did you dig through my clothes?" Jeno asks at the same time he pretends to read between the pages of one of his textbooks; although he's sure of the answer.

"Just your hamper." Jaemin confesses, shrugging as he leans on the counter. "I couldn't find anything big enough to hide my--"

He stares at Jaemin's bare legs, blushing at all the possibilities. "Please tell me you're wearing something underneath that."

"Want to find out?" Jaemin sticks his tongue out, playful and cute and hot and _God, I will not beg, but I will if it means you'll stop fucking testing me._

"I have to get back to this," Jeno reasons, holding up the book and flashing a smile that he wishes was awkward enough to scare Jaemin off.

"Books, _really?"_ He gasps and snickers jokingly. "Weird hangover cure."

"It's for a test," He says, and then follows up hesitantly with, "There's something I have to tell you."

"If this is what I think it is," Jaemin hums into his hot mug of coffee in consideration, and shoots up when he says, "You better tell me quick."

"Actually, I was wasted last night. The chances of me remembering anything after all those shots are slim." He takes an unnecessary hitch. "I figured I owe you the honesty-- and I'm really really sorry I--"

"Hey, _don't be_. We should have talked about this as soon as you were sober." Jaemin shakes his head in genuine understanding. "Believe it or not, I'm not used to getting this far. I didn't realize I was being, um, too natural? Too pushy?"

"No, you were being, uh," He gulps, flustered. " _Housewife-y."_

Jaemin tilts his head and curls his brows amusingly. "Has no one ever cooked for you before?"

He coughs. "No one's ever cooked for me in nothing else but my glasses and my sweatshirt."

"It was a bonus." He sulks cutely, huffing as he turns on his heel. "A hot, exclusive bonus."

"I don't want a bonus," He lies, because he absolutely does, just not so much that he forgets to say: "I want to talk."

Jaemin's shoulders fall, and it takes him a few seconds to walk over, take a seat, shake Jeno's glasses off and reorient himself. He pulls his act together and coughs out, "So talk."

"There's just-- tell me one thing, please." He curses. "Did something happen between us last night?"

Jaemin nods. "Something _definitely_ did."

"Oh," Jeno says. "Was it— did you— was I good?"

"It was— _nice_." He says, beaming as he blushes. The glitter that hasn't faded around his droopy eyes glint bright when he smiles, cheek to fucking cheek. It takes Jeno's breath away.

Jeno looks up and stares at Jaemin in an attempt to be a little apologetic. After a couple of seconds of mildly offensive staring, Jeno budges and says, "Well, I'm super ecstatic to know you had a great time with drunk Jeno. He's so jazzed right now that his dick is hopping in glee."

"What about normal Jeno?" Jaemin asks, hopeful. "What does he think of all of this?"

"Normal Jeno's fine." He says. "Mostly he's freaking the fuck out. But that's normal for normal Jeno."

"No, fuck. Okay, I get it." Jaemin mutters, managing to sound both blank and sad at the same time. "Can you just tell me if you want me out of here by the next three seconds? Because that's _clearly_ what you want, and this is just-- humiliating."

"No— hey, wait. It's not what I want." His voice wavers for a moment, just enough for him to see the look of hurt on Jaemin's face that makes him huff in surrender. "That's the most I have to say right now, but I swear I mean it."

"You're a nervous wreck. _Seriously."_ He quakes, but he doesn't sound the least bit furious. "Don't think about last night so much if it's all you're going to think about. I mean, it's not like we did anything wrong—"

"I can't not think about it!" Jeno shouts. "We just— we had, you know, _sex!"_ Blushing, he falters, knowing how much he made it sound like it was _that_ sacred.

"It wasn't—" Jaemin double-takes, and it's suspicious enough for Jeno to feel like he was hiding something. "Jeno, it's just sex."

"It's not just sex if I want to take responsibility." Jeno says.

"Goddamn, you make it seem like I'm pregnant." He chuckles, fake and low, like managing to be serious about this was going to break his calm-ish exterior. "Although with the amount of cum you'd—"

"—With the amount of cum that I'd most likely refuse to talk about, because I have some common decency, even behind closed doors—"

"I don't care, okay?" Jaemin finally says, his cheeks tinging pink ever so slightly. He looks away slow, blinks away his nervousness. "I need to know why I'm still here, Jeno." He mumbles unsurely. "I'll take whatever you have to say, even if it kills me to have to walk out of your door."

Jeno pauses, ends up saying nothing. He knew what he had to do was something he wasn't really allowed to do in the first place, so the most he can do is just sit there, quietly fiddling his thumbs against the edge of the table while he waits for Jaemin to make the final, heart-shattering move. Jaemin can only stare, and it wouldn't take much to decipher what's going on in his head at the moment-- hurt, sadness, blame, and the passing thought of Jeno being everything he thought he wasn't going to be.

"Forget it," he cries, standing up and walking dreaded steps on wobbly knees. He looks way too lost for someone who acts like they know their way back home, and the sight of it is all it takes for Jeno to say _fuck it,_ grab Jaemin by his arms and yank him close enough to fall straight on his lap-- and to finally kiss him full on his shaky lips.

Jaemin nearly tumbles back in shock, but he steadies himself swiftly with one hand looped against Jeno's shoulder and the other propped against the table. The silverware clangs under Jaemin as Jeno deepens the kiss, and as careful as he is of his movements, he couldn't assure himself that he wouldn't just _die_ right there. He's not sure if Jaemin's sucking the life out of him, or if he's giving out too much for him to bear. Either way, Jeno hastily pulls back when he fucks up his breathing, and he immediately gathers what's left of himself that isn't too far gone to the sight of Jaemin, face flushed, hair disheveled and cheeks tingling, redder than cherries.

Jaemin breaks the silence by saying, "Did you _just._ _"_

"I need help recalling all these terms _,"_ Jeno mutters shyly, gesturing to his textbooks, invigorated by the sudden burst of courage. "I could use a pretty voice."

The light in Jaemin's eyes quickly return, and he mumbles when he stares back, quick and happy, "Is it a study date?"

"It's a way to get to know you better," he shrugs, cheeky. "And to ace my test, for sure."

"As long as I get to sit on your lap." He says, giddy, grabbing one of Jeno's books on the table and letting out a huff of breath. He seems entirely focused as he runs his fingers through the streaks of blue highlighter, and, embarrassing as it might be, it made Jeno want to kiss him again.

So he does. It's short and tentative, no more than a shy, giggly peck, a soft bite against Jaemin's bottom lip, and with the unmistakable shudders of glee, the warm touches and the loving stares, and with the words already coming so easily—

"I always wanted to have you near." Jeno finally mumbles, his chest puffing out at the loss of dread and pressure.

 _—Yes,_ he thinks, _this is what I wanted to say all along._

The relief in Jaemin's eyes made him want to cry, so maybe he does, melts into the pleasant hours of morning as the universe falls back into focus. In his defense, none of this was supposed to happen— but, with a smile on his face and his heart on his sleeves, and the scatters of redeeming laughter Jaemin bursts into his welcoming chest, he was so _, so_ glad it did.

**II.**

_Jaemin made a pact to himself to resist the ungodly urge to take his clothes off and mount the first boy he sees at some random party, just for tonight, but then there he was-- in a boy's bed with his clothes off, seconds away from actually having sex with someone before the inevitability of having to sneak out in the middle of the night could even cross his mind, and what's weird is that he wasn't even that drunk._

_It was tempting at most. He didn't know how someone could possibly look so godly, even with the blatant discretion. Jeno, the boy in question, had his hair matted flat enough to obscure half his face, wore glasses, a face mask, and the most half-assed party get-up Jaemin's had to encounter ever since his cousin's 8-year old birthday party. But all Jeno does is sit by the floor, alone, down a bottle and a half of Bourbon and clumsily spill the rest he's allowed to have on his shirt and on the carpet—_ _and Jaemin immediately thinks he's wonderful._

_So he spends the majority of his boring evening teetering between flirtatious and light, pursuing Jeno through small talks and heavy stares and, honest to shit, unexpectedly succeeding. By the time it took for him to crash into Jeno's apartment, raid his fridge for a decent midnight snack, and strip Jeno off of his soaked clothes, he'd have thought he would already have this over with, but it's been an hour in Jeno's bed, both of them naked and hard as stone—and yet they haven't even gone past seamless intervals of heavy petting and cuddling when they should have._

_Jaemin fears admitting he doesn't really mind, but no, he's not going to deny just how badly he wants Jeno's dick inside of him as much as the next guy, but he realizes it's too much. Jeno is too much, and he can do so much, like make Jaemin fall into an existential crisis mid-cuddling, with so little. Jaemin doesn't let on to how scared of this he really is-- and he never thought he'd have to be. Because his throat felt too dry, and his face is too hot for comfort, and there's something about Jeno, the way he patters nervous kisses along Jaemin's neck, that disarms him, lets him lower his guard in a way that's terrifying._

_He can't do much to return the favor, even if he wanted to. Jeno seemed far too content with the things they were doing alone, even if he was drunk, and Jaemin's far too whipped to interfere with that._

_"Jaemin," Jeno huffs in earnest, and the pause that ensues gives Jaemin the time to bask in the overwhelming relief of someone actually remembering his name, actually knowing he's what's there in front of them._

_"Is this your first time?" He asks in lieu of freaking out, because he's so endeared and nervous and everything else he knows he hasn't been before. It's strange for him to feel so warm, to know that a single stare means this is what it was always supposed to feel like, and he's missed out for so fucking long._

_Jeno holds him close, eyes glazed in awe. "My what?" He flinches hazily. "I'm so drunk, God. Help. You're so-- pretty."_

_"Alright, well let's just-- see how this goes." Jaemin stammers, blushing. He knows just how much this should hurt him less. "Is there anything you want to do to me?"_

_"I want to kiss you," Jeno says, and when Jaemin internally anticipates more, he doesn't say anything else. "Can I?" He looks up, hopeful._

_"Yes," He giggles, leaning close. "You can."_

_Jeno doesn't waste the seconds, closing the distance between them in a skittish attempt to form magic with their lips. It's not magical at all-- and it's drunken and nervous and reasonably sloppy, for the most part, but it does just enough to cast a spell on Jaemin. Enough for him to swoon, to lose count of the seconds and to lose himself somewhere in between. When Jaemin moans between their mouths, Jeno malfunctions, and suddenly he's pulling back and sputtering into his hands and--_

_"I just kissed you, I just kissed you," He muses over and over, mostly to himself. "I'm going to explode."_

_"You're not—" Jaemin gulps, because he's pretty sure he's going to explode, too. "Jesus, I'm not that amazing."_

_"You are." Jeno shakes his head, pouting. "And there's so much I could do to you. I— won't make it out of tonight alive."_

_"Just kiss me again," Jaemin nods along-- his eyes clenching shut. "Please."_

_They kiss some more, Jeno's tongue sliding confidently over Jaemin's, until they don't feel like stopping-- not when the tension washes away or when the pleas reduce to mere static. Jeno keeps a subtle hand on Jaemin's lower back, but they feel like they're everywhere._

_He softens at the thought of finally having nothing go wrong when he's so used to it being that way, and it's what makes him hold on tighter, until the rest of the world leaves him alone and reality starts to feel less real. Time and time again, he has to remind himself, no one's ever going to think about you that way, no one's going to keep you around the next morning, but this time it's different— so different he couldn't even find it in himself to think straight without some realization crashing upon him— and then, suddenly, Jeno pauses, much to Jaemin's surprise._

_Jeno weakens, suddenly falls slack against Jaemin's shoulders, and instantly passes out._

_Dumbstruck, Jaemin pauses to gape and stare, but it's not long before he found himself chuckling at his sudden position. Jeno is fast asleep, practically deadweight above him, and when Jaemin pushes him off he breaks into an endearing fit of quiet little snores. He cards his fingers through the sticky strands of Jeno's hair, admiring the little flecks of blue glitter that glint with each slide of his steady fingers._

_It wouldn't hurt him to wish he could wake up to the sight of this every single day._

_It took Jaemin approximately 2 and a half minutes to realize, with a silly little smile on his face as he tumbles and huddles over the warmth that is undoubtedly Lee Jeno:_ this boy is going to be the love of my life.

**Author's Note:**

> this is relatively soft,, and also there was that bit of angst almost getting in the way i mean idk i just really rushed to finish this in the midst of several school lectures,, ALSO ADVANCED HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILY!!! 
> 
> find me on twt @RETROJENS and my abandoned cc lmao. love u alll


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